Every week, members of this blog will start at least a story with a paragraph. You decide on how the stories continue.
Rules:
Continue the story as from the last post on the list
No vulgar or discriminatory comments of any kind will be allowed

Monday, July 26, 2004

Story 4

Louise felt as if someone was following her. It was dark and the road was very quiet. She could not see anyone around and yet she felt sure that a person was following her, probably to harm her. How can it be? Ever since she has been living here, at the age of 15, she has always taken this route to home and never had any problems.

"Could be just me thinking, it might not be a thing" she thought and continued walking in the cold night. ...

3 Paragraphs:

She heard it again, an unmistakable sound of movement. She looked back afraid to see a big hairy hand reaching for her neck or big hairy hand with an axe trying to split her head. Nothing, Phew! Her childhood imagination is revisiting her tonight. When she was young if she stands in front of a dark room she used to imagine this hairy hand reaching out for her and grapping her from the neck. Never did the hand have a body. Funny how childhood ghosts and fears visit us into our adulthood.

The moon came out of from the clouds it was hiding behind it, it is 11 days old, when it hit the snow the earth is suddenly bathe with a grayish light, it made her a little braver. This time she stared back behind her almost as though to confront this pestering sound, nothing. She thinks she is see shadows but she just wrote them off, “my mind is playing tricks on me again” she muttered. She did not see anything, as she tried to turn and move, out of nowhere this black thing came falling from the sky, wham! It hit her on the face; she screamed and flung her arms to remove this wet thing off her. She kept screaming and kicking, franticly she looked all around her and there was no one. She looked down the thing, it was a dead cat, blood gushed out from deep wounds that covered all over its body, and a pool of red snow that looked like a fruit punch slurpie surrounded the cat. All these she took in with in seconds, and her instinct kicked in, her mind said run, “whatever killed this cat is not far behind” She run …

She ran through the night, each footstep hitting harder on the icy stone path. The crash of her footsteps crowded into one another, so that everything else was drowned out: except for her heart. Her heart beat so loudly that it felt as though it were in her throat, throbbing against the cold and unforgiving wind.

Time blurred into obscurity, as her footsteps had slowly fallen into to a more deliberate pace. Despite her best efforts, she could not persuade her legs to keep running. Without even noticing, she had somehow gotten off the beaten stone path, and was now trudging through the grim snow. She paused, her aching body complaining from its rigorous trek. I should have made sure I was running towards home, she thought. Now she had no idea where she was. The last traces of her small village were long gone into the night, having been replaced with tall foreboding fur trees, intermittently populating what appeared to be a mountain. They towered high into the sky, as if they were trying to cage her in. A light snow covered the mountain as far as she could see into the night. She paused her examination to collect her thoughts. The mountains are so far from our village though, it would take an eagle several days to reach them. She grimaced at the idea, Surely I couldn't have run this far, could I? Suddenly, Louise was startled out of her reverie by something cold brushing against her cheek. She whirled around, only to see more inattentive trees watching her, except for the sparkle of lazy white flakes of snow dancing their way to the ground. Yet, even as she gazed at them they fell with increasing fury, stinging her cheeks like sharp needles. It would have been bearable, had it not been for the biting wind which sliced its way to the marrow of her bone, ruthlessly sending shivers down her spine. Her light cloak did not help very much in this kind of frigid weather: Louise knew she had to find shelter, and quickly.

Scanning the mountains for some kind of cave or grove of trees, she noticed that she was losing the feeling in her hands. I knew I should have worn gloves, she mused, rubbing her hands furiously together. I've got to keep moving if I'm going to stay alive. The snow had already piled up a great deal on the ground, hindering her movement as she forced herself to move foward.

Slowly, she toiled onward, each foot falling heavily into the snow with a resounding crunch. The snow both melted and refroze on the rim of her skirt, the frigid material numbing her legs even more. As the snow continued to nip at her face, she thought, If only I could find some shelter, anything at all rea--her thoughts were interupted as her next step abruptly slipped, plunging her into the snow. Without giving her time to react, the snow fell away into a large invisible hole, sending her body into free fall. Flailing in fright, she tried to grab onto anything to slow her fall, but her effort was spent in vain. Louise let out a cry as she crashed without warning into several protruding stones from the wall. One of the stones hit her in her lungs, knocking all of her breath away. Nevertheless she desperately tried to grab onto them, and successfully seized a small stone plateau with one hand. Louise tried to hold on but she had hit the stones hard, and there was not much strength left in her. Her grip continued to slip, as her chest heaved back and forth trying to regain its oxygen. Reaching her other hand up to try to stabilize her hold on the rock, she heard a rumbling of stones from above! She looked up just as one of the stones struck with ferocity on her arms, bouncing off with a stinging pain. Needless to say, her grasp of the stone plateu was lost, and she fell down into the darkness.

She managed a smile as she recalled her attitude earlier in the day; And I thought this was such a dull and uneventful day. Looking up, she wondered if this would be the end of her life and all that she had worked for, to be stopped by a simple slip of the toe. Through the scarce moonlight coming from high above, she could make out several stones still falling toward her. Even as they fell, she slammed into the wall, causing her to briefly fall in a downward spiral before knocking onto a large pile of rocks. Blindfully she tumbled down the hill, sharp rocks bruising her arms and legs. There she burst onto the cold, hard, and unforgiving stone floor. With one last effort of heroine strength, she lifted up her head to get up, but alas! The rocks falling from above had not forgotten her. In a moment, they pummeled her one by one, afflicting her muscles with agony before one smashed into her head with a resounding blow, formidably knocking her head into the cave floor. She watched as the stones seemed to whirl around in the air, together with the darkness of the cavern, deliberately enveloping her as she sank into unconsciousness.

(Author's note [Ben]: It's a little more than a paragraph, but I enjoyed writing this so much I think I might write a story out of it! :) Feel free to continue this story though!)

She heard it again, an unmistakable sound of movement. She looked back afraid to see a big hairy hand reaching for her neck or big hairy hand with an axe trying to split her head. Nothing, Phew! Her childhood imagination is revisiting her tonight. When she was young if she stands in front of a dark room she used to imagine this hairy hand reaching out for her and grapping her from the neck. Never did the hand have a body. Funny how childhood ghosts and fears visit us into our adulthood.